


Captivated

by Preach



Category: Black Panther (2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mermaids, Complete, Consent Issues, Dubious Consent, Extortion, First Time, Human Erik, Human Sex (No Fish Sex), M/M, Mermaid T'Challa, Not Dark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-23
Updated: 2018-05-08
Packaged: 2019-04-26 18:56:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14408421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Preach/pseuds/Preach
Summary: Erik found the mermaid's mantle in a shallow tide pool, half-hidden under a jagged stone.





	1. Chapter 1

Erik found the mermaid's mantle in a shallow tide pool, half-hidden under a jagged stone.

He knew immediately what it was when he turned it over in his hands. The uneven, pointed fangs (shark teeth?) on the necklace glinted with an unearthly silver light, icy cold to the touch even though the necklace had been exposed to the punishing heat of the midday sun. When Erik ran his fingers over the glimmering silver chain, he could swear that he heard snatches of eerie mermaid song, all soft and seductive, beneath the pounding crash of the waves.

Erik knew of the old fishermen's tales. Mermaids, beautiful and deadly, who amused themselves by seducing unwary fishermen to their deaths. Mermaids, who would sometimes shed their tails for a chance to play on dry land, and who could only transform back and return to the sea if they slipped their mantles over their heads.

 _Beware of the mermaids,_ the fishermen warned. _They may look like angels, but their hearts are as black as the bottom of the sea._

Erik slipped the necklace into his pocket, already thinking of suitable hiding places.

He had never been one to shy away from danger.

* * *

 

The sun set, painting the sky with fire and casting deep orange ripples across the waves.

Erik was sitting in his little house by the beach, deep in thought _(plotting),_ when he spotted a distant figure walking up to the houses along the shore. Limping slowly, as if each step that she took caused her unbearable pain.

That had to be the mermaid.

Erik watched from his window as the dark figure knocked on the door of each of his neighbours' houses, waiting in anticipation for the beautiful woman to reach his home.

All of his neighbours were too smart to open their doors. No one was foolhardy enough to willingly draw the attention of something so obviously inhuman. No one, of course, except Erik.

Soon enough, there was a soft, tentative knock on Erik's door.

"What d'you want?" Erik called out gruffly, not getting up from his seat.

"Sir, I have lost my necklace," the mermaid said through the door. Her voice was soft and mellifluous, reverberating with curious echoes. The sound of it sent chills up Erik's spine. "Please, have you seen it?"

As the mermaid was speaking, Erik approached the door, moving as silently and stealthily as he could. On the last word, he flung the door open with a bang, lunging forward and closing his hands around the mermaid's neck. He yanked the mermaid into his house, letting the door slam shut behind them.

His first surprise as he set his eyes properly on the mermaid was -

The mermaid was not the gorgeous woman of Erik's dreams.

He was a _man_. A beautiful, muscular, dark-skinned man, about Erik's height, with curling hair and high cheekbones. Naked, except for a small scrap of tangled fishnet tied loosely around his waist, clearly scavenged from one of the nearby fishing boats.

The mermaid clawed frantically at Erik's hands around his throat, making choked cries of distress. Pinpricks of tears were beginning to form at the corners of his dark eyes as he struggled to breathe.

"Be quiet!" Erik warned the mermaid fiercely. "Don't speak or even move unless I tell you to. Or I'll tear your throat out!"

Erik could not risk being enchanted by the mermaid's siren voice.

The mermaid froze under Erik, going still with fear.

"Blink once if you understand me," Erik ordered.

The mermaid's eyes fluttered shut, then open.

Erik loosened his fingers fractionally, allowing the mermaid to draw in shaky, frantic gasps of breath.

"I know where your mantle is," Erik said darkly. "Silver necklace, with sharp teeth? You're never gonna see it again unless you give me what I want."

The poor little mermaid blinked to indicate his understanding. Tears were welling up in his eyes now, clinging to his long dark lashes. Erik fought down the urge to wipe them away.

The mermaid pointed at his mouth (Erik's eyes couldn't help but lock on to his plush, wet lips), then looked questioningly at Erik.

"You can speak," Erik said gruffly.

"What do you want, sir?" the mermaid asked, voice soft and shaky.

Erik bared his teeth. "Gold."

"Gold?"

"Yeah, gold. Money!"

The mermaid looked fearfully at Erik. "I do not have any money."

"What the fuck do you mean?"

"We have no use for human gold or money. We do not use such things in my home...I have never even seen them in my life."

Erik hissed in frustration. "Just create some for me! Use your magic!"

"I don't even know how! And in any event I cannot use magic on land," the mermaid said, distressed. "If you would only return my mantle so that I can go back into the water..."

"D'you think that I'm an idiot? You think I'll fall for that? No fucking way," Erik snapped.

"Please, sir, I'll do anything. Anything you want," the mermaid pleaded. "I just want to go home."

"What I want is gold! If you can't give me any gold you're of no fucking use to me," Erik snarled. "I think I'll just kill you and eat you for dinner. People tell me that mermaid flesh is sweet and juicy. More tender than the freshest fish."

Tears streamed down the mermaid's cheeks. "Please don't eat me. I'll do anything," he begged. "I'll give you -"

"What?" Erik said suspiciously.

The little mermaid leaned forward and kissed Erik on the lips.


	2. Chapter 2

Not for the first time that day, T'Challa cursed himself for listening to Shuri instead of his baba and mama.

_Never go on dry land,_ his parents had warned him. _Stay away from the humans. They are cruel and covetous, and their hearts are as black as the bottom of the sea._

But his younger sister, Shuri, had begged him for weeks to go to the shore with her. She had been dying to see the surface world, and had finally managed to wear down T'Challa's defences after weeks of pleading, threats and bribery. It was only after Shuri, eyes hard with determination, declared that she would definitely be going on land the next day - whether T'Challa came with her or not - that T'Challa finally gave in. As a protective older brother, he felt obliged to accompany her to make sure that nothing bad happened to Shuri. What if Shuri got caught, ravished and eaten by the humans, all the while screaming for her brother to rescue her? How would that make T'Challa feel? 

Shuri informed T'Challa that he had a very morbid imagination. Humans couldn't possibly be so bad. 

"Just for an hour!" T'Challa warned Shuri as they swam to the surface. 

"Yes, brother!" Shuri sang, doing an excited little flip. 

Their heads broke the surface of the sea with twin splashes. 

T'Challa’s first thought was - there was so much _light._  

Even though he had never gone ashore, he had swum to the surface of the ocean on occasion. Each time, he was amazed at how bright the sunlight was - worlds different from the weak rays that filtered down through the seawater. Fluffy white clouds floated in the sky and seabirds called to each other overhead. T'Challa stared in fascination at the unfamiliar sights. 

"Hurry up! Don't waste time staring, let's go to the beach!" Shuri said excitedly.

They swam towards the distant shore.

"We should take off our mantles and hide them around here," T'Challa told Shuri as they reached the shallows. He slipped his mantle off his head and immediately, his purple-black tail transformed, fusing into a pair of legs. 

Unfamiliar with balancing his weight on his new legs, T'Challa fell face down into the water. He coughed and spluttered, gasping for breath as Shuri cracked up with laughter. 

"Oh brother! Look at you!" Shuri laughed. 

"Let's see you do it then," T'Challa said grumpily. "I don't know how the humans manage with two legs. This is so unstable." 

T'Challa stood up cautiously on his unsteady new legs and began to walk around, looking for a good hiding place for his mantle. Finally, he slipped it under a submerged jagged rock.

Meanwhile, Shuri had also transformed and hidden her mantle by burying it deep in the sand, with a small rock above the hiding place as a marker. 

The two mermaids splashed about on the beach, spraying each other with water and admiring the way the waves broke against the shore, leaving foamy trails in their wake. 

After a while, however, Shuri began to complain that her feet hurt. The beach was full of rocks which pricked sharply against the mermaids' tender feet. 

"This isn't so fun now," Shuri said. "I want to go back home." 

But T'Challa was not ready to leave yet. He had never been on dry land before, and he loved the feeling of the sea breeze on his face, the way that the soft sand shifted under his new feet. What was a little pain compared to that? 

"Can you go back by yourself?" he asked Shuri. "I want to stay for a bit longer." 

Shuri looked conflicted. "If you're sure, brother," she said doubtfully. 

"Dont worry about me. I'll meet you at home later," T'Challa said. 

Shuri shrugged and transformed, diving back into the water with a splash. 

Now alone, T'Challa wandered slowly up the shore. The sand further inland was much softer, and there were less rocks there too. He occasionally stopped to examine a seashell or a small bit of coral buried in the soft sand, and before he knew it, he had wandered quite a distance away. 

But T'Challa, accustomed to living under the sea, had forgotten to account for the tide cycles and the subsequent low tide.

Unknown to T'Challa, as the tide retreated, the submerged rock that T'Challa had placed over his mantle became exposed. His carefully-hidden mantle became visible to anyone who might have passed by.

Icy fear gripped his heart when T'Challa finally returned to his original hiding place and discovered that the rock had been shifted. The mantle was gone.

In a panic, he waded deeper into the water, hoping against hope that it might have been washed out with the tide. The rocks cut deeply into his bare feet as he searched about frantically, heedless of the stinging pain from the saltwater in his cuts. But no - there was still no sight of his mantle anywhere. He would have been able to sense its magic if it were still nearby.

Someone must have taken his mantle. Probably taken it very far away.

A human.

A human had to have taken it.

Perhaps they had picked it up and brought it home, thinking that it was just a piece of pretty jewellery. Or worse, perhaps they _did_ know exactly what it was and was currently holding it ransom, lying in wait for T'Challa. T'Challa recalled his parents' words again: _Humans are cruel and covetous. Their hearts are as black as the bottom of the sea._

Tears welled up in T'Challa's eyes. The second option was too terrifying to even think about. 

Either way, if T'Challa didn't retrieve his mantle from the human, he would be trapped on land forever. He would never see his family again.  

Shaking, holding back tears, T'Challa began to limp towards the human houses in the distance. 

* * *

T'Challa's worst fears were confirmed when the human cruelly dragged T'Challa into his house with his hands around T'Challa's neck. 

His captor's handsome features twisted into a fearsome snarl as he demanded gold from T'Challa in exchange for his mantle. His hungry, covetous stare made T'Challa tremble with fear. 

(T'Challa hadn't known that human legs got even more shaky when one became frightened. It was a very unpleasant surprise.)

The man was immune to T'Challa's protests that he had never even seen any human money before. Rather, T'Challa's tears and pleas only seemed to enrage him. 

"If you can't give me any gold you're of no fucking use to me," the man snarled. "I think I'll just kill you and eat you for dinner. People tell me that mermaid flesh is sweet and juicy. More tender than the freshest fish."

Tears streamed down T'Challa's cheeks.

Caught and eaten by a human. This was T'Challa's worst nightmare.

He had to find a way out of this. 

Fight back against the human? But the human was so strong and fierce. T'Challa vividly remembered how the man's hands had tightened around his neck, cutting off his air supply. The marks on his throat still throbbed painfully in time with his pulse. 

Escape? But his feet hurt so badly that he could barely stand upright. Each step he took was unbearably painful, and his legs were weak and shaky with fear. 

Bribe the human? But T'Challa had nothing that the human wanted. No gold at all. And T'Challa couldn't use his magic to create anything for the human either - he couldn't perform any magic on land. Besides, T'Challa was so young for a mermaid (only thirty years old) that the only spell which he could reliably perform was the song to enchant marine life. And even then, the fish sometimes didn't even bother to listen to him. Enchanting the human was out of the question. 

Or was it? 

T'Challa gulped. He remembered whispered stories of mermaids who had been ravished by humans. Mermaids who had seduced humans. 

Compared to being eaten, being ravished by this handsome man definitely didn't seem so bad. The crucial question was whether he was even interested in T'Challa in the first place.

And could T'Challa even seduce him? He had no idea what to do. He had never even met another human before, much less slept with one.

Nervously, T'Challa flicked out his tongue to wet his lips. The man avidly tracked the movement with his eyes. 

His captor did seem a little interested in him. 

Hoping against hope that this would work, T'Challa leaned forward and tentatively kissed the man on the lips.

The human stiffened against T'Challa, his entire body going tense. His grip on T'Challa's neck loosened slightly.

And then he was kissing T'Challa hard, mouth hot and hungry against T'Challa, nipping lightly at T'Challa's bottom lip with his gold-capped incisors. T'Challa gasped at the sting, and the man licked the same spot which he had just bitten, soothing away the pain.

The human released his hands from around T'Challa's throat, letting them trail down T'Challa's bare back and coming to rest on his ass, his hands gripping and kneading at T'Challa possessively. The scrap of fishnet around T'Challa's waist offered him barely any protection at all, and the unfamiliar sensation of the man's warm, rough hands against his sensitive new skin made T'Challa squirm, wriggling against his captor. At that, the man chuckled, low and throaty against T'Challa's lips.

He didn't resist when T'Challa finally pulled away, eyes wide. 

T'Challa leaned back against the door, panting, trying to catch his breath. The human watched him with dark, hungry eyes. 

Hope blossomed in T'Challa's chest. All things considered, T'Challa thought that it had gone pretty well. 

"Can I have my mantle back now?" T'Challa asked tentatively. 

The man snorted, eyes glinting with amusement. "You gotta be kidding me, mermaid. You seriously think that I'll give it back to you for just a kiss?" 

The man's face turned predatory, a calculating glint appearing in his eyes. 

"Tell you what, little mermaid," the man purred, his eyes on T'Challa's kiss-swollen lips. "Let's make a deal. You let me do whatever I want to you for a night, and I'll let you have your pretty little necklace back in the morning. And you swear to me that you'll go straight home after that, and neither you nor your kind will ever come after me for this. We're even, and we're done."

T'Challa swallowed.

It wasn't a bad deal. T'Challa wanted nothing more than to get fucked, go home and then put this entire fiasco behind him. He swore to himself that from now onwards, he would always listen to his parents and never, ever come back on dry land again. 

But ' _let me do whatever I want to you'_ sounded very ominous. T'Challa thought that he would be lucky to get away with merely being ravished. 

"You can do whatever you want, but you can't kill me," T'Challa said cautiously to the man. "Or eat me." 

"All right," the man said easily. "No eating the tasty little mermaid. Got it."

T'Challa shuddered. "You can't hurt me either," he said, trying his luck. 

"Now, I can't promise you that," the man said, starting to smirk. There was a dark undertone to his voice, almost a growl. 

T'Challa froze, his mouth going dry with fear. 

The man's expression softened slightly at T'Challa's obvious distress. "Relax, pretty mermaid. I ain't gonna maim you or torture you. I might be a lil rough sometimes, but I won't hurt you bad, yeah?" 

It wasn't what T'Challa had been hoping to hear, but he supposed that assurance was better than nothing.

T'Challa swallowed, gathering the remaining scraps of his dignity as he straightened up. 

"I, T'Challa, Prince of Wakanda, accept the terms of your exchange," T'Challa paused, looking questioningly at the human. 

"Erik," the man said. 

"Erik," T'Challa repeated. 

A soft golden light surrounded them both as T'Challa's magic flashed out without his conscious control. The light faded with a soft echoing chime, signaling that their bargain has been sealed. 

Erik looked at once fascinated and gleeful.

"So I got myself a pretty mermaid princess, huh?" he said, smirking at T'Challa. "Looks like today really is my lucky day."


	3. Chapter 3

Strong arms wrapped around T'Challa, lifting him up easily. T'Challa gasped in shock as the world tilted. The motion caused the loosely-tied scrap of fishnet to slip off his hips, leaving T'Challa completely bare and exposed.

Erik was carrying him bridal style, one arm supporting his upper body and one arm below T'Challa's thighs, bending T'Challa almost in half. With nowhere else to go, T'Challa forced himself to stop struggling and lean into Erik's chest instead.

"Please don't drop me," T'Challa pleaded breathlessly, fingers clutching tightly at the front of Erik's shirt, curling in as closely towards Erik as possible as he walked up the stairs. The rocking motion as Erik climbed each step was very disorienting.

Erik laughed as he tightened his grip on T'Challa, looking down at the panicky, naked mermaid in his arms. "Damn, you're fuckin' cute," he said affectionately, voice rough with desire. "Can't believe you're all mine for the night, Princess."

T'Challa shivered a little at the predatory undertone in Erik's voice - a part of him was still half-afraid that the mean human was going to eat him, despite the protection of their bargain. But T'Challa's wriggling only seemed to make matters worse. The hungry expression on Erik's face intensified, and Erik even licked his lips. T'Challa caught a glimpse of sharp golden canines flashing in the firelight.

"Don't - don't look at me like that, please," T'Challa said, casting his eyes down.

"Like what?"

"Like you want to eat me," T'Challa said nervously.

"Can't help it. You look like a snack," Erik said, grinning as he crossed the threshold of his bedroom. Without warning, he dropped T'Challa onto his bed.

T'Challa yelped in surprise as he bounced once, and then cried out again, sharply, as the sore, bloody soles of his feet made contact with the surface of the bed. Tears of pain welled up in his eyes.

"Hey, you're bleeding on my bed," Erik said, alarmed. He grabbed hold of one of T'Challa's ankles, lifting his foot up for a better look. "How come your feet are all cut up like that? Magic? That the price you gotta pay for having legs?"

"Of course not. The transformation itself is painless. But I was so worried when I was searching for my necklace...I cut myself so many times on the rocks at the beach..." The memory of his panicked search earlier made T'Challa sniffle.

Erik bit his lip, looking a little guilty. "Wait here," he said roughly, and left the room.

Soon Erik was back, carrying a small basin of water and several clean towels. T'Challa sat up for a better look, but Erik pushed him back down on the bed, against the pillows. "Lie back down," Erik ordered, and T'Challa obeyed.

Erik dipped one of the towels in the basin and wrung out the excess water. He placed T'Challa's feet in his lap and began wiping gently at the sole of one foot with the damp towel.

The sensation of the warm, wet cloth pressing against his wounds made T'Challa squirm and whimper in pain. Erik made a quiet shushing noise, petting T'Challa's ankle. "Shhh, Princess," he said soothingly. "Almost done. I know it stings. Just bear with it for a lil bit more."

"I'm a prince," T'Challa protested. He had a strong feeling that Erik already knew that, but was just making fun of him.

Erik grinned at him. "Princess," he insisted cheekily, as he moved on to clean the cuts on T'Challa's other foot.

Once the initial sting had worn off, Erik's gentle rubbing was actually quite pleasant. The bleeding had almost completely stopped. For the first time that night, T'Challa slowly, hesitantly, allowed himself to relax as Erik massaged his feet, carefully avoiding any sore spots.

It seemed like the human wasn't altogether bad.

All of a sudden, Erik leaned his head forward and pressed a feather-light kiss to the heel of T'Challa's foot, followed with a slow, languid lick up his sole.

T'Challa cried out in surprise at the feeling of Erik's warm tongue lapping at his foot. Involuntarily, he could feel his toes curling downward as he tensed.

"You like that, Princess?" Erik asked slyly.

"Ahhh..." T'Challa gasped, unable to stifle his breathy moans as Erik continued to kiss up the soles of his feet, up his ankles, his calves. The sensation of Erik licking and kissing at the sensitive new skin on his legs, completely unfamiliar and yet not unwelcome, was driving him nuts.

"Erik, what - what are you doing?" T'Challa asked breathlessly, squirming.

"Don't tell me mermaids don't do foreplay," Erik teased as he stroked the juncture where T'Challa's knee met his calf.

"What?" T'Challa asked.

"Seriously? I was only joking. Y'all really don't do that? It's just 'wham, bam, thank you ma'am' with y'all?"

T'Challa was totally confused. "I don't know what you're trying to say."

"How do mermaids fuck?" Erik asked plainly. "How do you make little baby mermaids?"

"Oh," T'Challa said, flushing hot with embarrassment. "Um... like most other fish? The female lays a clutch of eggs in her nest, and the male fertilizes her eggs by releasing his sperm over them. The eggs that are blessed with enough magic will develop into mermaids. Usually it's only one or two eggs per clutch. The rest of the eggs will just disintegrate into sea foam."

Erik stared in disbelief at T'Challa, temporarily rendered speechless.

"I know that humans do it differently," T'Challa added hastily, not wanting to appear ignorant. "I know you do it the other way. Like the fish that bear live young?"

"Okay, no, stop. Stop. What the fuck?" Erik said incredulously. "Okay, first of all, humans just don't do it like fish. At all. We just don't. Second, that - that whole egg thing? That's gotta be the least sexy thing I've ever heard in my entire life. That's just sad. My god. You poor mermaid. You know what, Princess? I'm gonna fuck you so good you'll never wanna do it the mermaid way again."

And Erik practically pounced on T'Challa, knocking him back down against the pillows. T'Challa gasped in surprise as Erik stretched out over him, propping himself up by his elbows. Erik ground down against T'Challa, and the sensation of the rough fabric of Erik's pants rubbing against T'Challa's hardening cock made him moan. T'Challa's hands scrabbled impatiently at the front of Erik's pants, wanting -

"Eager, Princess?" Erik said, grinning as he wriggled out of his pants in one smooth motion, tossing them on the floor. T'Challa felt himself flushing at the feeling of Erik's naked body grinding against his own, skin brushing against skin. He felt hot all over, burning in the places where Erik was touching him - his neck, his chest, his nipples. T'Challa turned his head to the side, breath coming out in quick pants as Erik's hands moved lower, spreading his thighs apart.

"Erik, I've never done anything like this before," T'Challa confessed anxiously, fisting his hands in the sheets as Erik kissed his inner thigh.

"No shit, Princess. I can tell," Erik said, amused. "Don't worry, you're doing great. I'll go slow. Let me know if it hurts, yeah?"

"I thought you didn't care," T'Challa said worriedly. "You wouldn't promise not to hurt me earlier."

"Nah, I changed my mind," Erik said, rubbing circles in T'Challa's thighs with his thumbs. "Don't be scared, pretty mermaid. As much as I enjoy seeing you cry, I've got, like, a civic duty to show you how good it is to fuck the human way. I promise I'll stop if you tell me it hurts, yeah? Don't worry, Princess. I'm gonna make you feel so good."

"Okay," T'Challa murmured as he closed his eyes, trying to relax.

T'Challa thought that he knew what to expect in theory, but it was still a shock when Erik's hot, wet mouth closed over his cock.

"Ah!" T'Challa couldn't help but arch up as Erik sucked hard, taking him in one deep swallow before pulling off slowly, in and out, in and out. Erik's soft, wet tongue lapped at the head of his cock, spreading his precum around the slit. T'Challa could feel himself getting almost painfully hard. He let out a strangled moan at the sight of Erik's lips sliding over the length of his cock, Erik's mouth hollowing in and out as he sucked. It was sweet torture - the sensation of Erik sucking greedily on his cock, breath coming hotly against T'Challa's groin, fingernails lightly scraping on the inside of T'Challa's thighs and his balls. The rhythm that Erik set was almost maddeningly slow, and T'Challa's hips jerked up, thrusting deeper into Erik's mouth whenever Erik pulled off slightly, chasing the warm suction.

T'Challa whimpered and bit his lip, feeling hot pressure rise at the base of his belly. Wetness gathered inside T'Challa, soaking his hole as his arousal built and his balls tightened. A warm trickle of slick ran down the inside of T'Challa's thigh.

Erik _stopped_ then, just when T'Challa was right on the edge, pulling all the way back to remark to T'Challa, "Wait, mermaids self-lubricate?"

"Don't stop!" T'Challa cried, bucking against the sheets. "Don't - don't talk so much. Just - "

T'Challa grabbed his cock, trying to recreate some of the warm pressure of Erik's mouth. But Erik batted his hand away gently and forced T'Challa's wrist down against the bed, causing T'Challa to cry out in helpless frustration.

"Hands off," Erik said, grinning. "You're gonna cum in my mouth or not at all."

Thankfully, Erik didn't tease T'Challa any further, and bent his head back down to suck on T'Challa again. T'Challa let his head fall back against the pillows, and with one last warm constriction around his cock, T'Challa finally climaxed. His vision whited out as he came down Erik's throat. A gush of slick seeped out of his hole, dampening the bed.

Erik swallowed all of T'Challa's cum, sucking T'Challa dry through his orgasm, continuing to do so even as T'Challa melted bonelessly back into into the mattress.

"That's enough," T'Challa gasped, pushing lightly at Erik's forehead.

"You taste so good," Erik murmured, giving a final lick to T'Challa's spent cock before he let it fall from his mouth.

T'Challa trembled with the aftershocks of his orgasm, exhaling in ragged, shaky pants as he tried to catch his breath. He really hadn't expected - this. Honestly, he had thought that Erik would just stick his cock in him and be done with it. At that thought, his hole clenched almost unconsciously, closing down around nothingness, desperate and empty. Another small trickle of slick squeezed out.

Erik definitely noticed. "Still so needy," he teased as he dragged a pillow close, shoving it under T'Challa's hips. T'Challa, relaxed and pliant, let Erik arrange him as he wanted, knowing what was coming next.

"Open up for me," Erik murmured as he spread T'Challa's legs apart so that his knees were bracketing both sides of Erik. "Yeah, just like that, Princess."

Erik's fingers pressed lightly at the rim of T'Challa's wet hole, and T'Challa squeezed his eyes shut in anticipation. And then two fingers were pressing in, sinking in to the first knuckle in one smooth motion, aided by T'Challa's slick.

T'Challa cried out, involuntarily clenching down tightly against the foreign intrusion, even as Erik made a gentle soothing noise of comfort.

"Relax, baby. Just two fingers for now. Is it too much for ya?"

"N-no," T'Challa gasped, trying not to tense up again. He could do this. Once the initial, unfamiliar burn of penetration had worn off, it didn't hurt, what with how wet and slick he already was. Experimentally, T'Challa flexed his ass again, drawing a groan from Erik.

"Fuck, you're so tight. Gonna loosen you up a bit first before I fuck you. Now just relax, Princess."

Erik's fingers worked T'Challa open, slow and steady as he fucked in and out of T'Challa, stretching him with a gentle scissoring motion. Three fingers now, thrusting all the way in to the base even as T'Challa moaned, squirming at the stimulation. Little jolts of pleasure shot through T'Challa with each thrust.

"More," T'Challa panted. It wasn't enough. The fingers weren't enough. He wanted to be completely filled up, wanted Erik to -

Erik, damn him, withdrew his fingers completely from T'Challa with an obscene wet noise. T'Challa could have screamed in frustration.

"Why don't you _ever_ do what I want - " T'Challa protested, but then his voice cut off as he saw that Erik was now stroking his own cock, spreading T'Challa's slick on it. With a heated look at T'Challa, Erik knelt between T'Challa's thighs, lining his cock up against the rim of T'Challa's hole.

"Lock your legs around my waist," Erik said, "That's it, now just hold on - "

Erik slid into T'Challa slowly, and the burn of the entry made T'Challa gasp. Despite the preparation, it still hurt. Erik's cock was so much longer and thicker than his fingers. T'Challa flinched in pain, trying to move back, to squirm away from Erik's gentle grip on his hips. His ass clenched down hard around Erik's cock, making Erik groan.

"Hurts," T'Challa managed to get out. The pleasure that came with being fingered was gone. All he could feel now was pain and pressure from the intrusion of Erik's cock as he was stretched open.

Erik leaned forward to brush away the tears beginning to well up in T'Challa's eyes. The shift in position made T'Challa whimper, but it did feel good to be comforted.

"You're taking it so well, Princess. Just try and relax," Erik murmured. Erik had stopped moving, letting T'Challa get used to the stretch.

T'Challa tried his best not to cry. He could take it. Humans did this all the time. And it did get better after the initial pain, as his body adjusted to the hot, thick cock within him. It still didn't really feel pleasant, but at least it didn't hurt so badly.

"Okay," T'Challa finally, when he thought he was ready. "Okay, I'm good. You can..."

Erik began to fuck slowly into him, moving deeper into T'Challa with shallow, gentle thrusts of his hips. Each movement punched a shallow gasp out of T'Challa as Erik's cock split him open. T'Challa's cock rubbed against Erik's belly, and the feeling of the friction against his cock and Erik's cock grinding into his ass was at last starting to feel good. T'Challa gripped tightly onto Erik's shoulders and began trying to move back into Erik with each thrust. Erik made a small approving hum, and began to thrust harder and deeper into him.

"Oh!" T'Challa cried out as the head of Erik's cock brushed against a small bundle of nerves deep within him. "Erik - _ah_ \- there - " Forgetting himself, T'Challa dug his nails hard into Erik's back.

Erik grinned and began thrusting against that same spot, making T'Challa see stars. With a last gasp, T'Challa felt his body seize up as he came again, his cock spurting cum against Erik's belly. The sensation of T'Challa clenching tightly around him made Erik groan too, and after a couple of jerky thrusts, Erik was coming too, spilling deep into T'Challa's ass.

Erik rested his forehead lightly against T'Challa, catching his breath.

"Fuck, T'Challa. You're a fucking good lay," Erik said, half-laughing as he pulled out. T'Challa winced at the feeling of cum and slick leaking out of him. "You liked that?" Erik asked.

"It was..." T'Challa couldn't describe it. He felt himself flushing again as Erik draped an arm over him, cuddling him close.

"Gimme a while to recover, then we can go again," Erik said, kissing T'Challa on the cheek.

"Again?" T'Challa asked. Having come twice, he already felt pleasantly wrung out. A part of him just wanted to cuddle up to Erik and doze off, even as another, larger part was curious about just what else Erik could do to him.

"We got all night, baby. Don't think I'm gonna let you get away after just one fuck."

* * *

When the first rays of the rising sun finally broke through the clouds, T'Challa was exhausted. His thighs ached and he felt pleasantly sore all over. There were three loads of cum in his ass and love bites scattered all over his torso and neck. Erik had been insatiable.

T'Challa nudged Erik, who had finally fallen sleep after their previous round with his face buried in the crook of T'Challa's neck. "Wake up, Erik," T'Challa murmured. "It's dawn. The sun is rising."

"Five more minutes," Erik muttered, arms tightening around T'Challa.

T'Challa laughed briefly, but then became serious. "Erik, I really have to go soon. My sister will be very worried about me."

"Fine, fine," Erik groaned, blinking the sleep from his eyes. He stretched briefly before rolling out of bed, tugging on his pants. "Follow me. It's just in the next room."

T'Challa winced, limping a little as he got out of bed. The cuts on his feet hurt and his ass felt stretched and sore.

Erik paused at the doorway, looking back at T'Challa with concern. Without being prompted, he came back to stand beside T'Challa, supporting T'Challa with an arm around his shoulders as they walked slowly to the next room.

There was a heavy iron chest in the centre of the room, surrounded by a ring of white powder that looked awfully like -

"Is that salt?" T'Challa asked Erik in disbelief. "You surrounded it with salt? You superstitious humans. You do know that I'm not a demon, right? I'm a mermaid. I live in the _ocean_. Salt has no effect on me."

Erik laughed. "Yeah, I dunno what I was thinking when I did that. But the iron worked though, didn't it?"

"Yes," T'Challa admitted. He couldn't sense his mantle at all, even knowing that it was in the chest right in front of them. All he could feel was the awful, unpleasant chill emanating from the cold iron chest, which completely negated the effect of his magic. T'Challa shuddered.

"Is the iron hurting you?" Erik asked gently. "You can wait outside the room. I'll take the necklace out for you."

Erik's concern for T'Challa made his heart flutter. Erik could really be quite sweet, even though he had seemed so cruel at first.

"It doesn't hurt," T'Challa said. "It just feels very unpleasant."

"Alright, just wait here," Erik said. He walked forward to open the chest, lifting out the silver necklace. With a small smile, he dropped it into T'Challa's outstretched palms.

"There," Erik said quietly. "We're done with each other. Now you can go back home."

T'Challa clutched tightly onto his mantle, feeling his heart sing.

"C'mon, I'll carry you down to the shore," Erik said. "You won't have to walk."

* * *

T'Challa wound his arms tightly around Erik's neck, cuddling close to Erik as he walked towards the edge of the ocean.

Even though T'Challa was anxious to get back home, he could feel his heart sinking with each step that Erik took. He knew that Erik never wanted to see him again after this. When they had struck their bargain last night, Erik had made T'Challa promise not to come after him when their deal was complete.

But T'Challa didn't want this to be their only night together. How could he live without seeing Erik again?

"What's wrong, love?" Erik said, setting T'Challa down gently on the sand at the edge of the breaking waves.

T'Challa swallowed, gathering up his courage. It couldn't hurt to ask. The worst Erik could do was say no. 

"'I know we made a bargain. But can I come back and visit you again?" T'Challa asked Erik tentatively.

A bright smile broke out across Erik's face. Erik cupped T'Challa's face in his hands, drawing T'Challa close for a deep kiss.

"Was waiting for you to ask. Of course you can, T'Challa. I'll be waiting here for you."

 

THE END

**Author's Note:**

> (I know that T'Challa is actually supposed to be a 'merman', but I just find 'mermaid' to be a more pleasant word.)
> 
> Comments and kudos appreciated!


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